Vampiress of Baltimore
by MelodyMilan
Summary: A murderess is killing people in a vampiric fashion in town. Meanwhile, on the other side of town, an FBI trainee with intense investigative prowess is almost done her classes to enter Behavioural Sciences. Supernatural elements involved.
1. Prolouge

The air was cold in the summer's night. A middle-aged man walked from the bar, his face covered in the glow from his phone as he messaged. Whoever he was talking to he didn't notice where he was going as he bumped into a person or two that were heading into the bar. He started walking in a general direction, possibly home.

There was a soft flirty wolf whistle from the shadows as he walked past a doorway. He stopped a looked around. The man squinted into the shadows as a long feminine arm exited the darkness and beckoned him forward with a finger.

He smiled foolishly and swayed over to her with a swagger in his step. He disappeared from the light of the street and followed her into the nearby alley.

After a moment or two of quiet in the darkness, there was a scream of horror from the man followed by a gurgle in the shout. Suddenly silence again and a thud before a slow dragging sound from the alley.

Will Graham woke hours later and miles away in a small hotel room to the sound of his phone ringing. He was dreading the day, possibly another murder scene and Jack breathing down his neck while Hannibal's eyes followed his every move. He checked his phone; Jack had already messaged him telling him to meet him at a street address, no house number.

He looked at the time. It was only seven in the morning, he sat up. He didn't wake in sweat today, but he had in the middle of the night. He felt gross so he hopped into the shower before he headed to his car, avoiding breakfast in case there was something stomach churning at the crime scene.

He focused on the road all the way to the scene, he didn't want his mind wandering to anything, especially what might be awaiting him.

He parked around the cops and police cars, recognizing Jack and Hannibal's cars respectively. He shook his head and flashed his badge as he stepped under the crime-scene tape. He really didn't want to see the body.

Jack wasn't too far from the tape, he was standing in the alley-way talking with Beverly pointing out places to scan for evidence.

"Jack," Will said politely, not wanting to interrupt.

"Hello Will," he responded a little-tired sounding. "Don't hold back, Bev."

She nodded, "Hey Will." and headed towards the alley, taking out her magnifying glass, snapping her goggles on.

"We have a fantasy type one today Will." Jack turned to the man as he pocketed glasses. "Are you ready?"

"As I'll ever be." Will said, taking a breath.

They walked into the alley together, there were long streaks of blood on the pavement, the body had been dragged. At the bend in the alley, on an offshoot was where the blood continued to point Will raised his head and his jaw fell open.

The middle-aged man was hung up on the wall by rope, electrical wire from a nearby building was wrapped around his neck to keep his head up. He was held in a crucifix pose. Arms outstretched, body hanging. His torso was stripped, he was barefoot and from his neck, a dark stain of blood.

He looked as if he had bled to death. The only real wound being a huge looking bite mark on his left of him where his shoulder met his neck.

"What do you think?" Hannibal asked. The foreign man was admiring the body, he turned to Will, awaiting a response.

Will closed his eyes, getting into the mindset of the killer.

He could see the night, the man passing the alley, the woman beckoning him over. And when he was brought into darkness the woman showed her strength; she kissed his neck once to relax her prey and then bit it hard if she had fangs he didn't know. The man screamed and fraught for a moment before gurgling his own blood and falling limp. He was a big man so he fell under her. She snapped on gloves and dragged his body away from the street, huffing as she pulled him up into the shape she wanted. Using wire cutters for around the neck and stripping him of his shirt so the wound was visible, she threw his top, socks and shoes into a pile and set it on fire, before throwing the gloves in and finally the match.

Will opened his eyes again, Hannibal still eyeing him with curiosity.

"Check the ashes in front of the body." Will looked over the victim. "She tried to burn her gloves in there, there might be something there."

"It was a woman?" Jack asked incredulously.

"Yes, a white female." Will looked over the body. "Vampirism is a sensual act. She bit his neck." he pointed out the wound. "Probably not for blood but he lost a lot and there aren't pools of it everywhere around the murder scene."

Hannibal chuckled, "So this woman believes herself a vampire?" he mused. "Then what of the Jesus symbolism?" he asked.

"Jesus was executed with criminals on either side of him," he stated, putting on his glasses again. "She's sending us a message that this man walked among us as a criminal. A monster like her."

There was quiet. Everyone let the words sink in when Zeller waltzed over. "You'll be happy to know, this man was a criminal," he announced. "We ran his prints through the databases and already got a call; he's a registered paedophile and has been incarcerated for one thing after another. Drugs, murder, rape, fraud, tax evasion. He might as well be the killer himself."

"She's saying he's brought it on himself." Will said to the group. "This vampiress is cleaning the world of criminals; she's warning the others that they're next."

Melody Milan brushed her hair, she had a rough week of restless sleep but she was heading back to school, back to training for the FBI.

She pulled her hair into a pony and grabbed her bag and keys as she left her little apartment. Only class today was with her favourite teacher, Will Graham.

She wanted to pick his brain desperately but never got a chance to. Today, as she started her car heading for campus she set out to do just that after today's lecture. She knew her teacher wasn't social but she just wanted to ask him about the last assignment.

She pulled into the parking lot. Parked quickly and almost sprinted to her class. Sitting at the very front of the lecture hall so she could get to him while everyone left.

She waited through the lecture about a recent killing, one of a man who had bled to death from a bite and then was hung. She examined the pictures, keeping a mental note of every detail. Finally, he dismissed the class and she bounded up to him.

"Mr Graham?" she asked, looking at him expectantly as everyone filtered out.

"Yes?" he said, putting his papers away.

"I'd like to talk about today's assignment." she started.

"Why?" he asked, not looking at her, looking around her instead. "You're the smartest one in the class. Why is it so hard to imagine how this woman came to murder the victim?"

She smiled, he knew she was a lady. "Because police records on this criminal weren't public." she crossed her arms. "Either she is or was part of one of his arrests or all of them, or she was a victim of his, or she has access to his records."

Will blinked and looked up, avoiding her eyes; "Are you saying this murderer is a cop?" he asked surprised.

"Or ex-cop." she added. "He's been on parole from the sounds of it. Maybe his parole officer let it slip, people don't run around announcing they're pedophilles or killers."

Will blinked and rubbed his chin thoughtfully, he then looked into her eyes and almost gasped, his mouth open.

"And..." he said slowly. "What about students for the FBI or local police academy? They would have access to."

She smiled genuinely. "That opens dozens of people who could have committed it then professor." she gazed into his eyes back. "Unless this murderer slips up who knows. Thanks for the insight."

She waved at the professor as she walked out. Around the corner from the hall, she bumped into a man in a maroon suit.

"Terribly sorry, sir." she gasped, picking up her papers.

"Oh, the fault is mine, my lady," he said, in a thick foreign accent, picking up a book of hers. "I was in a rush myself."

He looked at the cover of the physiology book she had before handing it back.

"You take Will Graham's lecture?" he asked, fixing the button on his suit jacket.

"Yes." she smiled. "He's my favourite teacher here. I'm almost done my training, I'm working to get into the Behavioural Science Unit."

His smile widened, "That's fortunate. I'm good friends with the head of the department, Jack Crawford. I would love to put in a good word Miss..?"

"Oh," she shook her head and extended her hand, swinging her bag back so it didn't intrude. "Melody Milan, and who do I have the pleasure of speaking with?"

"Doctor Hannibal Lectre." he took her hand and shook it, a twinkle of amusement in his eye. "The pleasure is mine young lady. I work alongside Mr Graham in the field when I am not busy elsewhere."

She smiled, "I need to get to my last class." she waved her hand to the end of the hall casually. "But I do hope we cross paths again Doctor."

He nodded, "As do I."


	2. Meeting

Melody was sitting in her lecture hall. Everyone had already left, she was quickly scribbling some notes. She was excited about that last question the professor had asked; If we could make a difference, no strings or rules attached; what would we do?

It had her thinking of her previous lecture from Will Graham, about that woman who had murdered a criminal in such a gory manner. Maybe the teachers knew who it was, and were trying to figure it out. She pondered this as she shoved her books into her bag.

"Miss. Milan is it?" a loud, deep voice rung out from the door.

She looked up, standing in the doorway was an African-American man with glass, a suit and shortly cut hair that had flecks of grey in it. He had a lecture's visitor badge hanging from his suit's breast pocket. She walked to the door, so she wasn't shouting at him.

"I am sir." she slung her bag onto her back. "And who, might I ask, are you?"

"A little birdy," the man said, crossing his arms, a twinge of a smile playing on his lips. "A little, foreign bird, was flying by and told me that a young woman was looking to get into the Behavioural Science Unit."

"That would make you Jack Crawford then, sir?" she extended her hand. "It's a pleasure."

He took her hand and shook it, "I hear you made quite an impression on Dr Lectre. He can read people in a certain way, so I expect great things from you."

"A demonstration in order sir?" she tilted her head curiously.

"Demonstration?" he asked. "I don't understand?"

"Of course," she smiled and shifted her bag. "I didn't show the good doctor because he was smart enough to see just as much as I."

She looked him over, spotting his ring; "A long marriage with a lovely wife"

She spotted the sweat on his neck, his face was dry, however; "You possibly ran here from your car, Dr Lectre told you not long after seeing me, so you were in your office previous to this."

She noticed a bit of grime on his knee, he had been kneeling somewhere in the field; "You were at a crime scene this morning, possibly the one that Mr Graham was showing us of the blood drained body."

She sniffed the air, closing her eyes, he smelled clean, a hint of cologne on him; "And you bought a new cologne, one that you are trying to see if you like," she sighed. "Or a gift."

Jack stood, dumbfounded. He was looking her over, drinking her in, as if he had never seen her before until now.

After a moment of silence he said in a soft, breathless voice; "I'm going to make a special request of the board of governor's; you're too good to be wasting another moment in a classroom." he extended his hand again, an invitation. "I would like to bring you onto the field with me."

She was awestruck. Was she dreaming? How could this have happened so fast? She was just talking to Doctor Lecter a moment ago. Had the Doctor known this much about her at a glance too?

She shivered at the thought, trying to hide it as nerves she shook his hand again. "I would love to." her voice quivered with airy excitement.

An hour later she was marching deep in the heart of a building; Jack Crawford was worried about something. This was possibly not the first time he took a student from their classes. The last time something must have gone horribly wrong.

They walked to the glass-walled room, inside was a body on the cold metal table. Inside the room reeked of blood and formaldehyde.

"Who's she?" asked an Asian woman, in goggles and a white investigative outfit, meant for examining the victim, she couldn't think of the name.

"Beverly Katz, this is Melody Milan," Jack said. "I was hoping she could investigate the body."

Beverly looked over Melody and stepped back. A twinkle in her eye told Melody that the woman was holding back some sort of sarcastic remark.

"Go ahead," Jack said, pulling down the sheet so she could see the whole body.

It was a woman, still in her underwear, a young girl, possibly late teens. Her hair dark and long, her skin pale from the blood that had drained from her body. The source of the blood loss were large piercing wounds about an inch in diameter a few in her chest and some abrasions on her arms.

"She was hung up." she looked over the body. "Bled out on what she hung on." she leaned in close and sniffed, she smelled warm and earthy. "Relatively fresh body; hung in a log cabin on antlers."

She looked to Jack and he smiled and nodded, gesturing for her to continue. She sniffed the body again, the smell on it was familiar, it reminded her of the soap smell Lecter gave off.

"The killer left some of his knuckle skin in her teeth." she noticed the blood that remained. "But it's been removed."

She looked over the wounds again, there was bruising under the hair near the temple. "She was killed by a blow to the head." she sniffed around the victims head, then a thought flickered into her head, about the body she had heard that had been hung on antlers in a field weeks previous.

"This is..." she sighed and backed up, thinking of the name she had heard Will Graham mutter once or twice. "This is a body from the Chesapeake Ripper."

"Well," Beverly broke the silence. "Colour me a shocked, Will said the same."

"I know," Jack said. "I didn't say a thing to her before we entered here and she practically constructed the crime scene and the murderer for us. I have another Will."

Melody tilted her head, "I can't get into the mind of the killer though." she smiled. "But I could try to come up with motive."

She looked over the body; "A message," she smirked as she figured it out. "He's trying to blame someone, make a lovely story for the media involving bodies, pin it on a dumb teen or the Minnesota Shrike and weave a possibly from that. He's planning and cunning, you won't find him unless he wants you too. He likes being the puppeteer; through his dolls or with others."

Beverly chuckled, "Can we keep her boss?"

"I'm free all week." she quipped to Beverly. "But I cost double on the weekend."

She chuckled, "Oh you'll fit in just fine, sweetheart."

"Down girl," Jack said, a smile on his lips. "How would like you to report to a psyche-eval with Doctor Lecter, as I'm sure Dr Bloom is busy?"

She smiled, feeling a tinge of excitement; "I would love to, sir." she smirked, fixing her bag. "If it means I can be apart of the team you have sir."

"I need a level-headed Will," Jack said. "Doctor Bloom doesn't want him too close so you're the best alternative."

She opened her phone, "Do I need to call Lecter or will you sir?" she asked.

"I will." he smiled and opened the door for them. "I need to talk to him a moment or two, I have your contact info so I will message."

"Great meeting you Beverly." Melody waved with a grin as the exited. "I can see myself out, sir."

"See ya." Beverly shot as she continued on the body.

"Not without me," he said as they reached the stairs. "You don't have clearance yet."

He saw her off and she drove away with an excited buzzing in her head.

About an hour later she had showered in her apartment and felt hundreds of times cleaner and better than the other day. Her phone had gone off when she entered the shower, but it was only a message so she checked when she exited.

It was from an unknown number, a quick message;

 _It's Jack. Lecter can see you in a half hour at 6 if you can make it._

She messaged back instantly that she would be there and started to get dressed. He sent her directions as she grabbed her car keys and sent quick thanks as she locked up and headed downstairs.

She was at the regal looking building within ten minutes. It was a few stories up, on the third floor that Lecter's office was.

She was waiting in the first room she found. It had red sitting chairs. It was possibly a waiting area. However, there was no receptionist or secretary for him.

She waited, when a clock within struck six she stood, adjusting her skirt. She had decided to wear her business casual. If she was to work with a man in a business suit it would only be best. She flattened her blouse's hem as the door opened.

"Miss. Milan." Lecter was in the doorway, graciously holding it wide. "You look strikingly beautiful out of uniform."

He stepped back to allow her in, "Though I suppose in the field this may be your new uniform."

"Jack informed me of this meeting only just after a shower," she scoffed entering the room. "Or else maybe a bit of makeup and something done to my hair would have painted me in a better light."

She was stunned by the room. It was beautiful. Large, high ceilings, allowing a bookcase up in a loft farthest from the door. He had tall, elegant windows, the curtains drawn on them at this hour. Everything in the room from the curtains to the wall and the exotic afghans on the floor followed a red and white colour pattern, with greys and blacks. He had a handsome desk with a reddish tinge to the dark wood.

Behind his business desk appeared to be a small drawing desk, with a perfectly detailed drawing of Saint Peter's Square in Rome. Behind the desk a small black and Gothic appearing fireplace.

She wandered to the drawing desk, being an artist before she switched careers she was stunned. " _È magnifico._ " she barely whispered, drinking in the detail on the columns and the obelisk in the centre of the square.

" _Ovvaimente,_ " Lecter said, calmly, the words flowing from his mouth like it was his mother tongue, " _È palese rispetto all'architettura reale._ " (Of course, it pales in comparison to the actual architecture.)

"You speak Italian?" she asked him. "I'd be impressed but I am more awestruck by the detail of St Peter's."

She smiled sadly at the sketch, "I wish I could see all Italy has to offer."

"Why not go?" he asked. "You have nothing holding you here but yourself."

"That is just it," she sighed. "I have a duty I need to uphold for now, but one day..."

"You could just take the next flight," he smiled. "Call in sick and spend the time there until you are ready to return."

She laughed, "I would never wish to." she ran her hand through her damp hair, tearing from the drawing. "Drinks in Venice waterways, sketching the day away on the Ponte Vecchio, drinking in the whole of Il Vaticano."

He smiled, and tilted his head; "I would bring you there." he chuckled. "If you let me."

She chuckled, and shook her head, taking a seat and placing her purse beside herself. "Not so soon, you need to know me first." she sat back, her eyes flashing at him. "After all, I am impressed you have stayed so quite so long."

He blinked, standing next to his chair; "I beg your pardon?"

"Oh, I won't say the name." she smiled. "After all it is not one you choose. And it fits you poorly."

He had a flicker of anger cross his face; "I assure you I don't understand what you mean."

"You do," she said simply. "But I am not dumb enough to say it. Just like you knew how I am when you saw me."

There was no mistaking the flash in his eyes now. He spoke carefully, not tearing his gaze from her.

"We have privacy to say what we will here." he sat down, consciously. "I am who you think or say I am. Then who are you?"

She smirked, she had whiffed his blood pumping hard in fear.

"I am just a fallen angel," she smirked wider. "Here to rid the world of sickly-minded humans that plague the earth."


	3. Morning After

Silence plagued the room. It hung in the air like a sickly fog. Melody watched as Hannibal's eyes flickered to her and then her purse, as if expecting to find a weapon, he swallowed and loosened his tie.

"An angel?" he sounded faintly amused. "A guardian of the light? Playing in the shadows? Then I did see your work this morning, my love."

"I expected you saw it after you said you work closely with Will Graham." she smiled politely. "What did you feel? When you saw my work?"

"Why do you care?" he asked and slowly stood to pour himself a drink. "If it is art should it not be viewed in peace?"

"It is not art," she smiled. "It is _my_ art, but not meant to be seen as such. I need an outsiders view. Will Graham understood the message. I need someone to tell me if I will get caught; an alibi."

"And I will do that for you?" he said, taking a sip of his drink, offering her a glass with a nod of his head. "Why do you believe that?"

"No thank you, unless you have wine." she crossed her legs. "Because, just as you saw a body of mine; I saw one of yours, I know only because of the smell lingering on her."

He unstoppered a bottle of wine for her, pouring it into a tall, elegant glass. The crimsion liquid drawing her eyes with excitement.

"Marissa Schurr.." she asked, watching the glass. "Did her death inspire what you hoped in Abigail Hobbs?"

He was still for a moment, he set the bottle down and brought her the glass. "Perceptive, Melody Milan." he extended his hand so she could take the glass. "What gave you the thought it was me?"

"The elegant smell of soap that lingered in her hair where she was struck." she took the glass, ensuring her hand touched his slightly. "It is the same you wash with when at home; I smelled it on you when we first met."

"You have a strong sense of smell." he chuckled and sipped his amber drink. "What else mademoiselle?"

"The perfect placement of the body," she sighed, she sipped her drink, feeling the burn in her throat and nostrills. "Other than that nothing points to you and no human can smell soap on a cold body."

"And what makes you able to smell so well?" he asked. "Were you born with it, or gifted it?"

"Gifted," she grinned, showing her pearly white teeth. "I know you were born with it Hannibal Lecter. So answer me this." she swirled her drink gently, watching the alcohol in the glass, clear, cling to the glass. "Shall we work together?"

"Let's get to know each other first." Hannibal raised his glass in toast. "I wish to know the beautiful woman they are calling a Vampiress."

"And I wish;" she raised her glass mirroring him. "To know the Ripper. If he would be so kind?"

"He shall." he smiled and tapped his glass on hers before taking another sip.

They stayed awake listening to classical music Hannibal had put on an old shining record player until the clock struck midnight.

"Is it truly so late." Hannibal stood. "I must head home to rest for the long day ahead."

"Nonsense." Melody chuckled. "Only regular folk need sleep, and you are a cut above the rest."

Hannibal chuckled deeply; "Still, I require a change of clothes or else rumours will spread."

"I will meet you later today." she smiled, gathering her purse. "I need to eat before I head into the Bureau."

"Which reminds me." Hannibal went to his desk and wrote something quickly and elegantly on a patient sheet.

"An evaluation form." he explained, folding a copy into a folder and handing her the other copy. "I think the Bureau could use an angel on the field."

She smiled wickedly. "Thank you, Doctor Lecter."

"Not at all Miss Milan." he bowed his head slightly. "I look forward to seeing you tomorrow morning. And please."

He took her hand in his and kissed the top of it gently; "Call me Hannibal."

"Enchantè." she smiled. "And I prefer Melody, Hannibal."

She didn't sleep that night, she had instead drunk some more dark mysterious fluid when she got home from a joke blood bag an old friend had given her. If anyone had seen her at this early hour it would look as if she was feasting on blood.

She chuckled at the thought and stretched her body, listening to faint popping sounds from her spine and hips. It had been a long night. And the day was about to stretch before her. She picked out an outfit; a black pant and matching suit jacket, heals and a light red blouse to set under the jacket. She washed her face, brushed her teeth which had been stained a little from her drink earlier.

She pulled on her sports bra and panties, then pulled on her thigh-high tights. She would be only elegant for the team, she would be a monster to the world. She shook this thought as she grabbed her letter from Hannibal, folding it into her wallet she jammed it and her keys into the jacket and headed out the door. Her phone remaining in her hand.

As she neared her car the phone sprang to life ringing loudly. She let it ring twice and picked it up.

"Hello, Melody Milan." she answered. "Speaking?"

"Melody it's Hannibal." he sounded enthralled. "Excuse the early hour; Jack is going to ask you to go to Connecticut. Tell him you have a follow up with me today and met me at my office at once, please."

She rubbed her temples and teased; "To what do I owe the pleasure of skipping breakfast for you?"

"I will make breakfast." he sounded thrilled at the idea. "And I will meet you at your place. I don't want Jack to bring you to the crime scene today. Only the bodies of the deceased. Afterwards of course."

Her phone beeped, Jack was calling her. "What if he insists?" she asked.

"Tell him I insist you stay and he can call me angrily all he likes." he teased. "Will is heading to Connecticut anyway."

She sighed; "One moment, he is calling now."

She flicked over to answer Jack's call.

"Melody" he sounded worried. "Is it too early to ask you to take a plane with the team?"

"It depends." she asked. "How soon would you need me?"'

"Immediately." he said. "Four bodies in Connecticut."

"I can't make it." she said with a sigh. "Doctors orders." she grumbled. "Lecter still wants to pick my brain before I see an actual crime scene in person."

There was dead silence on the other end. "Is that so." He sounded like his breath was bubbling with anger. "I'll call you when he says you can come."

He hung up and she heard the click of being connected back to Hannibal.

"You said you're near?" she asked. "How do you know where I live?"

"A quick look at your records curtosey of Jack." Hannibal responded. "See you soon."

He hung up, leaving her in the silence of the morning.


	4. Blodplättar

Melody was waiting outside for only a moment before Hannibal rolled up in a sporty looking Bentley. She sighed as he pulled to the curb and she entered the car. She did it carefully, careful not to scuff anything with her heals.

"Good morning" Hannibal smiled at her. "I hope you are hungry."

"A little." she buckled up. "I had an early drink this morning to tide me over."

"From the other night?" he raised a brow at her.

"Yes." she smirked and set her purse in her lap. "I will answer any questions you have."

"I will ask when one pops up." he drove off, heading down the street. "Did Jack give you a hard time?"

"A bit," she pulled her hair back a little. "Why can't I see the crime scene today?"

"I want you to show off for Jack." he smiled. "I think he'll like how valuable you are in replacement to our dear William."

She took in his words. "You are dismantling Will. Aren't you?"

He smiled at her. "Yes," he turned the car and headed down another street. "He is most valuable to Jack. But Jack has more pressing things to worry about other than Will."

"I hope you will share with me one day." she smiled back.

They pulled into a driveway of a large house. It had many floors, tall ornate architecture and beautiful front doors.

They parked and he stepped out, opening the car door for her.

"Thank you." she said softly.

She was still overlooking the grounds. Not much of a front yard but plenty of beautiful building to make up for it. She inhaled the air. It had a unique quality. As if perfumed in rich foods and flowers.

She made it to the door. Which Hannibal was already unlocking. He held it open for her.

"Ladies first, my dear." he winked at her.

She nodded and headed in. It was reminiscent of his office; gorgeous paintings, sculptures and handsome dark colours all over the walls and in the furniture.

He gave her a tour, from red and grey and white room and room, showing her the living room, dining room, restroom and finally the kitchen.

Immediately her eyes were drawn to the brightest part; a large glass door that led to the outside, a small patio area for entertaining. Next the long tall island in the centre of the kitchen, with a built in stove. A large fridge and a door that she assumed to be the pantry. He also had a bowl of fresh fruits and vegetables at a small table in the corner.

"Breathtaking." she smiled at him.

She stepped forward to take in the kitchen and heard the unmistakable sound underfoot of the floor changing. She turned to him.

"May we enter?" she grinned at him mischievously and pointed at the bit floor she was standing on. It was apparently a trap door.

He gave her a tentative look and visually made a decision, kneeling to the ground. "Allow me."

She stepped back and he opened the floor's door to the room below. She smiled and walked down the simple staircase. As she descended she was overwhelmed by the scent of blood and chilled flesh.

Once below she turned on the lights, it was a huge walk-in fridge. Plastic strips separating each area. Deep freezes lining the room and a mortuary slab on the far end, where a body was hanging above it by the hooks in the ceiling.

"My my, Hannibal." she smiled nearing the body. The blood had been pooling into a basin below. "May I?"

She gestured to the blood.

"After exsangunation is complete." Hannibal stated taking in the body. "I'd hate for this lamb to be swimming in blood when I start carving the flesh."

"After I've carved it perhaps you could help me display it." he smiled to her. "He was a naughty little lamb, having his way with others."

"I'd love to see his report." she smiled and inhaled the blood from the basin. "Mmm, clean blood is rare for me. They're always swimming in booze or drugs."

She stood up and dusted off her knees.

"Why is that?" he asked. "Could you not easily overtake them?"

They headed upstairs again.

"Oh, easily." she chuckled. "But no one bats an eye at a shouting or screaming slob. Perhaps..."

He shut the door and stood on it. "Yes?" he flicked a stray hair behind his ear.

"Could you help me hunt?" she smirked. "I'm afraid I'm a little rusty."

His lips curled into a thin, cruel smile. "Ask me again after breakfast."

"What's for breakfast?" she asked him.

"Blodplattar," he smirked, heading to the sink to wash his hands.

"Blood pancakes." her eyes widened. "I'd never think I'd eat any outside of Europe."

"Well," he chuckled as he took out some bowls. "I thought it appropriate. When did you last have any?"

"I haven't had for many years." she smiled. "Not since Finland."

"Tell me about your time there." he asked, bringing out flour and a vial of red liquid.

"It was brief." she sat on the chair opposite his stove. "I was visiting my mother's cousins. She's where I get the Aryan look." she gestured casually to her face and blonde hair. "My parents were working. I decided it was time to stretch my wings."

"Did you enjoy it?" he asked, mixing flour and creating the batter. "Were your family members inviting?"

"Absolutely." she smiled. "It was weird though, I don't speak a word of Finnish and they spoke fluid English so I was stuck being translated to."

He chuckled warmly; "It is odd, being in a distant place and being held back by language." he smiled. "Did you overcome it?"

"No," she sighed and inhaled softly as he unstoppered the red vial. "I haven't returned since I learned some Fin, and I have no idea where to go this time. But one day, perhaps before Italy."

He smiled, "I would be happy to accompany you, if it would make you feel better."

"That's alright." she smiled weakly. "It isn't in the cards right now for me."

"What is in the cards for you?" he asked, pouring a pancake into the pan.

"Judgement," she watched him work. "Nothing else yet, I only turn one card at a time."

"In that case," he flipped the pancake. "I will help you where you need it. When it is time to turn another card."

He slid the pancake on the plate, she felt the bloodlust boil in her stomach.

"I have a visitor on the way." Hannibal smiled. "You know her too well."

"Do I?" she asked.

"Abigail Hobbs." he smiled. "I'm to fetch her soon."

"I hope she doesn't disappoint." Melody grinned widely at him.


	5. Abigail Hobbs

There was a gentle knock on the door as they had settled into the dining room. Hannibal had a pitcher of orange juice and three plates on the table laden with pancakes and maple syrup. Melody had requested a cup of blood. She would lie and say it was cranberry juice if she needed to.

Hannibal went to answer the door with an "Excuse me." as he left the table.

Melody hadn't dug into her food yet, she waited patiently for her host as she sipped the blood in her wine glass. Sighing contently as it numbed a dull burning in her throat that felt like a cold forming.

A pale young girl with brown hair entered the room, closely followed by Hannibal. This girl was unmistakably Abigail Hobbs. But she refused to make the young lady uncomfortable by telling her she knew her name.

"Abigail, this is FBI investigator Melody Milan." Hannibal took Abigail's coat and hung it on a coat rack by the door. "Melody this is Abigail Hobbs."

Melody bowed her head slightly and tilted her wine glass. "Good morning, Abigail." she smiled. "I hope you're hungry, Hannibal made breakfast."

"I'd love some." Abigial took her seat that Hannibal was holding for her.

"Feel free to remove your scarf." Melody smiled. "I promise I don't bite."

Abigail hesitated and looked to Hannibal.

"Don't worry, Abigail." he said softly. "She is a good friend of mine, that I can confide in."

The girl slowly removed her scarf. There was a fresh scar from a cut on her neck, near but not on the major carotid artery.

"I feared that was the case." Melody smiled and tilted her head so the light showed the patch of makeup on her neck.

Under the makeup, visible when her head was tilted up like that she knew there was a huge bite wound, from years ago.

Abigail gasped, "H-how?" she swallowed. "How did you survive such a tragety? If you're okay with saying it."

Melody smiled as Hannibal dug into his pancakes, allowing the dark maple syrup to run over them. It was making her mouth water.

"Let's just say, I'm the only real monster in the room." she swirled her glass and took a deep drink.

Abigail swallowed hard again, Melody could hear her heart racing.

"What do you mean by that?" she cut into her pancake, trying to sound casual.

"I mean, I am a vampire." she dug into her pancakes and took a bite. Enjoying the soft feeling with the metallic taste of blood.

Abigail was silent with her mouth full. Looking from Melody to Hannibal, as if waiting for one of them to laugh. She swallowed her food and turned to Melody.

"You're not joking are you?" she asked incredulously. "How did that bite make you believe you're a vampire!?"

Melody smirked. "I don't need to prove anything to you." she finished her next bite before continuing. "If anything you need to prove yourself worthy to me."

Abigail snorted, "Why?" she set her fork down and turned to Hannibal. "How long have you known her?"

"Long enough." Hannibal said to her. "I would listen to her, she has done more terrible deeds than either of us."

Abigail turned back, looking like she was about to shout for a moment, the way she was biting the inside of her lip.

"I don't sleep over it." Melody said gently, cutting into another slice. "Sleep is hard to come by for me, so I can't help you there."

She smiled up at Abigail. "However, living with myself is easy." she bit into her foot and chewed quietly, after she finished she continued, having not been interrupted. "In order to live with yourself you need to look in the mirror and accept your actions and scars."

"I doubt that-"

"Perhaps," she cut her off. "Being truly honest with someone about how close you were to the murders of those girls. It might help if someone heard you say that you were the bait in your dad's trap."

Abigail looked horrified for a moment. "This is a joke right." the girl's heart was thudding, her eyes flicked between Melody and Hannibal. "I didn't have a thing to do with that. I-"

"You played a good part. After all," she made eye contact with the small teenager, her eyes boring into her. "It was them or you. Right?"

Abigail looked horrified. As if her very mind had been read. She picked up her scarf, fumbling with it and stormed from the room. Leaving her coat behind her.

Hannibal finished his food in slience.

"Charming." Melody said softly, finishing the last of her pancakes. "You should bring her the rest of her breakfast later. She might want them, even cold they are good."

"She will assume it isn't food colouring or beets in them." Hannibal picked up the plates.

"How long have you known?" she turned to Hannibal, taking the glasses to the kitchen carefully.

"About Abigail?" he asked, placing the dishes in the sink, turning on the water. "Since I first saw her. I knew that she knew about her father."

Melody stood at the counter. "Does she know that?" she looked to him, bringing the glasses and setting them next to the sink.

"She won't know," he started to scrub the plates. "She can't know, she needs to tell me herself."

"So she can trust in you." Melody smiled and grabbed a cloth to dry the plates. "She can trust you after Nick Boyle, so why not trust you with her very life."

"Which I intend to take," he smiled. "When she proves to run out her amusement."

"I hope you never deem me boring Hannibal." she smirked, setting the plate down on the counter.

"We shall see." Hannibal smiled. "I wouldn't mind to fight you if it comes to it."

"It will be a short match." she whispered loud enough.

Hannibal visibly shivered as she dragged her finger gently over his spine. He was a much older man physically, but she knew that she could easily overpower him.

He coughed, "Are you trying to insinuate something?"

"I don't plan to sleep with you," she chuckled teasingly. "I know Will has your heart. I'm saying I will have your head if you try to kill me."

He paled a little and whispered. "Let's hope it never comes to that."


	6. Shakshouka

To say that Melody had an excellent commute would be a lie. She had excused herself from Hannibal's home, with the cannibal's approval, not that she needed it, and made it on foot, in the pouring rain, to headquarters. Melody had taken what would have been a twenty-minute drive in two minutes of her walk. She wrung her hair out as she made it to the shelter of the front doors, where a very cross Jack stood, arms crossed.

"You're surprisingly on time..." he observed as she flapped some stray rainwater from her blazer.

"You're cross that I didn't come to Connecticut, I know," she sighed. "It's Lecter's orders, however, or I would have been here sooner."

"Has the doctor cleared you for duty?" he rose a quizzical brow as they entered the building lobby side-by-side.

"Reluctantly," she grumbled. "Doctor Lecter wanted me to show off, now that the bodies have made it here. Apparently, I can. Don't debrief me, he wants me to wow the rest of your team."

He nodded, and they made their way down to the sterile lab from before where she had met Beverly Katz, who she was pleased to see was there as well. The woman flashed the younger girl a smile.

"No talking," Jack barked to her and the two other men in the room, the latter Melody paid no mind to. They were probably assistants to Beverly

Jack pulled down the sheets on each victim, respecting their decency, as two, were children. The bodies were still fresh. At the sight of the young ones, Melody's heart sunk in horror. As she scanned over the dead, she started making deductions.

"Family; mother, father, and daughter, son." she started, pointing to each person in turn. She pulled up to the mother. "Deducible by the coloring of the hair in the girls, the eye color the mother shares with the son and the particular nose and cheekbone structure shared in the father and children. The mother has a forgiving look..." she drummed the slab with her fingers. "A middle child perhaps unaccounted for among those here is the culprit."

"Bullet holes entry and escape wounds," she continued looking at each side of the victim's heads. "Show a smaller or dwarfed suspect, supporting my previous statement."

She inhaled each body slowly, smelling the decay from each. The youngest was the oldest killed, and the mother was the freshest.

"Order of passing," she pointed to each as she spoke. "Daughter, son, father and then the mother. Perhaps a declaration of disownment...A lost boy..."

She drummed the table and looked at the young boy looking for knicks and bruises to indicate a brother. The daughter of the family had too soft and fresh a face to seem interested in horsing around with her brother, if she had an older sister, then she would be the same. Melody found small scars on the boys head from a stitch, and a faint injury on his outer palm, possibly a scrape that scabbed and was picked off.

"Some scaring indicates a rough brother-like sibling," she hummed. "Merely speculation, however, accidents occur everywhere."

She drummed the table again and stood back, the crew around her were stunned. A lythe man next to the table in a lab coat cleared his throat. He had salt and pepper hair and a receding hairline, with a tie visible under his lab white-coat, he held himself confidently and professionally.

"Crawford, can we keep her?" he smirked, his tone youthful, but the laugh lines around his eyes saying otherwise.

"She's staying," Jack chuckled, his arms crossed as usual, but a flicker of amusement in his eyes. "Hannibal cleared her, I just need to work on her clearance."

"Good," said the other man. "We need all the hands we can get."

This man seemed a bit fiercer than the other, but this might have been appearances. He was visibly younger with a short, cut of dark curls and a mid-afternoon stubble adorning his face. She quickly scanned the badges hanging off their breast pockets.

"Investigator Jim Price," she nodded to the older man. "And Investigator Brian Zeller." she nodded to the younger, they shared a stunned look, and she tapped her badge. "You shouldn't be surprised that I know your name when your badge is showing them."

Zeller rolled his eyes.

"Another smart ass," he snorted.

"Only one using the word 'smartass'," she quipped. "Is the man with the hurt pride."

"Sharp and smart," Price smirked to Jack. "You sure she want's us."

"Yes," she and Jack chorused before he pressed. "And I didn't bring her here to socialize..."

"I should get to know the team, boss," she tilted her head quizzically. "After all that walking I should get more than five minutes with the stiffs, Beverly and the dead."

"Ouch," Zeller held his heart dramatically. "That stings."

"I take 'stiff' as a compliment," Price laughed as he stuck a report on the nearby desk. "I'd rather be stiff than-"

"She's still a student!" Jack barked.

"I'm a student," she turned to Jack. "But not a child. Don't take my word for it, but I've seen some things that make me older than I should be."

Jack looked into Melody's deep eyes a moment. She wasn't lying if that what she was looking for, but she felt like the dark bags under her eyes were on display now. One of the features she hatted most of herself.

"Fine," he snorted. "Sex jokes are cleared then," He rolled his eyes. "Did Will head home, Price?"

"Yep." the man sighed defeatedly. "He should be soon if you want your two protege's to meet."

Her phone buzzed, she glanced at her smartwatch. A message from Hannibal; _P_ _lease stop by after_ _your day, possibly nine pm._

She chuckled as the door opened and Will drifted in, he was pale and ghost-like with his walk, as he appeared to float to an empty stretch of room. A chill settled over the place, like another of the dead was added to the slab, everyone took notice. Zeller tried to warm up the mood of the room as Will settled to watch the bodies as Jack covered them up again.

"I'm glad there were no guns in my house," he leaned against the wall. "I would've probably shot my sisters just to get them outta the bathroom."

"I loved my big family," Bev admitted happily as she cleaned up a wound before covering the body up again.

"My parents gave me a gift, a twin," Price chuckled, then added sarcastically. "Who wouldn't want two of me?"

When the coldness in the air returned, Zeller turned to Will, who was in a daze, looking at a distant point on the floor.

"Lemme guess?" Zeller asked casually. "Only child?"

Will slowly looked up, his face still set, his tone even and distant. The only difference in expression was the twitch of his brow before he spoke.

"Why'd you say that?" he sounded only slightly defensive.

"Cause family frictions is usually a catalyst for personality development," Zeller said stonily, but astutely.

Will continued to stare a little off to the left of Zeller, not responding. The ice of the room continued so Beverly spoke up to warm the atmosphere of the place again.

"I was the oldest, so," she smirked a little, looking proud. "All the friction rolled downhill. You Melody?"

She quirked a brow; "Oldest of four," she crossed her arms defensively. "The rest are all boys, so I didn't do dress up with any little sister..."

"Yes," Jack hummed checking under a cover that Beverly had just covered. "All the responsibilities heaped on first-born children usually prepares them for success in the future."

Zeller seemed to chuckle and roll his eyes as Beverly crossed her arms furiously at a nostalgic thought.

"My baby sister got away with murder," she gripped. "She had them all fooled."

"I thought the middles were the problem," Price tilted his head to the group inquisitively, leaning onto a desk.

"Middles the sweet-spot," Zeller pointed out.

"Always trying to figure out where they fit in," Will spoke up, walking up to the bodies finally. "They can be great...politicians...or lousy ones..."

"All the victims have defensive wounds, except for misses Turner." Jack sighed, handing Will the photo.

"There's..." the man looked it over.

"Forgiveness," he and Melody said in unison.

"Really?" Jack quirked a brow at the two. "You mean-"

"The middle child killed the family," Melody cracked her neck. "I stated that earlier, Jack."

"Excuse me, Miss Milan," Will turned to her, sounding overly defensive and accusative. "I didn't think you would be joining us.."

"Chalk it up to Mr. Crawford forgetting to debrief you," Melody sighed. "He's recruited me.."

"Recruited?" Will scoffed. "As if-"

"I would like to think," she crossed her arms. "I was the most qualified and skilled student."

"Your my most terrifying student," Will snapped coldly and evenly.

The room was silent, not commenting or interrupting as Will went off.

"Every detailed explanation," he threw the photo to the table. "Every deductive insight, every deduced motive." he leaned against the table. "You can throw yourself into the maws of these monsters and look at their insides, what makes them tick. And you spit out their life story to me before I've even had a moment to look at the crime scene. It's terrifying that you figured this all out before I did."

"What dwarf would invite themselves into an estate agent's home to kill the whole family?" she quirked a brow. "A scorned child with a devil whispering lies of grandeur in his ear..."

"We're looking for an angry pre-teen?" Jack scoffed.

"More like a surrogate Mother Hen who can't lay any eggs." Melody turned to Jack, leaning on her one leg in a relaxed pose. "Let's say this lady went nuts when she found herself infertile...she goes out and picks up little chicks and eggs from other hen houses, then she lets the chicks grow a bit before they kill off their true mother, and are reborn her little chick. She keeps them under her wing, and they become a new family..."

The room was icy cold, and everyone looked sick to their stomachs.

"Look for recent missing children," Melody sighed sadly. "I have a feeling we'll get another slaughtered hen soon."

With that Melody nodded herself out, Jack trailing after her.

"Milan!" he barked.

She turned to him, feeling impatient.

"Yes, sir..." she nodded as he squared up to her.

"I thought Will idolized you?" he glared. "Why is he so pissed?"

She scoffed, "With all respect, sir," she crossed her arms. "You didn't brief him, or involve him. Nor did you let him know you were asking him about me to with ideas to recruit. To finish off sir-"

"Okay," he sighed. "I get it. You're more stable than him, so he feels threatened."

"Bingo," she nodded and tilted her head to the door. "Help me prep my clearance cards and codes?"

He shook his head with a snort, "Kids..." he chuckled and headed out and up the hall. "Keep up, Milan."

* * *

Melody Milan took a deep, steadying breath. She had found herself way out of Baltimore this time, in New York City.

It was only hours after she had seen Jack and the crew, and she was determined to end her night with a full stomach. She craved so strongly the blood of the vile woman who was controlling these 'Lost Boys,' she could only imagine coming across her family in such a state. The thought boiled her blood and left a taste in her mouth that she needed to wash out with the man in front of her.

Lawson, Nicholas 'Lil Nick' Lawson, was the roughest and biggest criminal in these areas. She had run herself out of Baltimore to New York in a half hour, and she had found the man quickly. Melody was still in her work clothes. But she stripped them to only her matching knickers, wishing they weren't so casual. She snipped at the bra with her keys so it hung open, showing off her cleavage.

She cracked her fingers and undid her hair, applying more makeup to her eyes and lips she adjusted her heals and looked for her prey. She tucked her clothes into a plastic bag and stashed her belongings into the gutter along with her watch, she didn't want to be located.

It was so easy, like writing her own name. A tilt of the head, a bat of the lashes and the surprisingly sober Lawson, was following her to the hooker's nearest crack den. The streets were wet with liquor and loud with shouts and moans from the escorts within. She held her head high as she entered the cigarette and weed smoke-filled house, making her way to the top room, passing many passed out drunks and "employee's" who were smoking in the halls. Her prey was trailing behind closely.

She drew the curtains and sat on the crusty, damp bed, wanting to vomit in her mouth. Lawson took her in and locked the door behind them. She smirked as he threw his suit jacket aside, strode over and pulled her into his lap swiftly.

"Oh," she gasped and giggled falsely. "I like when guys look at me when doing it..."

"Good," he smirked smugly and looked her in the eyes, and she smirked back. Checkmate.

"Turn off your phone," she stared into his eyes, not touching the man she slowly stood. The man didn't object. The poor soul was under her will now. 'Poor soul' was a stretch of the imagination, but he would be dead soon, so she could indulge the idea of redemption for the man.

"Stay still and listen," she stood and used a firm voice. "You, Nicholas Lawson of the criminal mafia, are sentenced to death for your crimes; arson, murder, rape, drug-trafficking, slave trading, and extortion to name a few. You will not have any calls or any salvation. I will liberate your victims from your clutches with your death."

The man had a flicker of fear in his eyes, but he remained motionless as if he was deaf to her words. In this hypnotized trance, he was about as useful as a wall.

"Now," she pulled on gloves she had stashed in her bra. "Please remove your valuables from your pocket."

Lawson did as told, removing several guns and a switchblade, his wallet, a lighter and a pack of smokes. Melody rolled her eyes, how typical. When he finished she grabbed his head firmly, hands splayed on either side of his face.

"Now," she stared into his eyes, intensely. "Drag the blade across the right wrist, going from palm to mid-arm, but only cut about 3 inches wide."

The fear returned, this time it didn't leave Lawson's eyes, and he scrunched his face up. He was resisting Melody's will. Fresh tears started to well in his eyes from the effort, but the man's actions did differently. His hand rolled up the sleeve of his sleazy business suit. He swiftly grabbed the knife and flicked it open. The man's hand trembled and then steadied as he ran the shining metal from his wrist up to his elbow.

The instant color of red shone along the man's arm, the smell assaulting Melody's nostrils. Clean and free of toxins, luckily for her, this mafioso had a parole officer who checked him nightly, he would be in trouble when he didn't clock in within the hour. But the man would be dead by then.

She clamped her teeth into the cut and sucked, trying not to damage the initial cut much. It was euphoric and relaxing. The world number around her as it was just her and this beautiful gushing liquid in her mouth. It dulled a burning desire for flesh and made her body feel like she tingling. She smirked and felt the tingle travel up and down her spine. This was better than any act she could perform with a man or women in bed, and the world seemed to black out of existence for a moment before she slowly came to.

The man was becoming weak in front of her. She pulled her mouth from his wrist and looked into his eyes, not caring to clean up the blood from her mouth and chin.

"Stab your heart," she commanded, her voice raspy but even.

He shakingly pulled the dagger up again and weakly sunk the knife into his chest, red blooming from his dress shirt. His one hand couldn't push it in enough, too weak, and the other was limp and useless from her draining it of blood, she slowly pressed the hilt deeper until he groaned.

"Good dog," she said sternly, her voice still thick she sunk her teeth back into his wrist until he slowly lay back to die.

Melody pulled the man's shoes off and set them by the door before striding to his belongings next to him. She took out the dead man's bills and raided his wallet of cards. She tucked the cash into the strap of her panties and used the man's jacket to clean her mouth before dropping it into a pile on the floor. She then tossed the cards in it then her gloves before clicking the man's lighter and lighting a cigarette. She didn't smoke, but had to look the part. She held it in her mouth, tasting the ash and nicotine, and dropped the lighter on the pile of clothes and belongings, it smoked for a moment before catching.

Satisfied she looked over her work and quickly checked herself in the mirror before exiting the room. It would take until the room caught before anyone would notice the smoke,

She passed a hooker who was receiving a hickey from a customer and slipped the cash from her panties into the strap of the other lady. Now all evidence of the sullying night was gone and the money with someone who needed it more.

Once blocks away she tossed aside the unsmoked cigarette and grabbed her belongings again from the gutter. She redressed and head into a public restroom to scrub the makeup off. She checked the time, only twenty minutes until Hannibal requested her in Baltimore. She could make it in time.

She exited the room and made her way home.

* * *

 _ **Authours note;**_

 _ **The name for this chapter came from an existing dish of the same name, seeing as the episode I am taking peices from is called Oeuf's I looked for an egg dish with a red sauce, and voila.**_


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